March 16

I have just come back from a journalistic tour in Iran. There, I interviewed a Christian pastor facing execution for his beliefs. I asked him why he would rather die than give up his faith in God, as well as leave his wife and children without him.

"Wouldn't it be better," I asked. "To give it up outwardly, and be reunited with the family that needs you, than to go to your death? What is the point? And why would you love a god so much, if he demanded you to do such a thing?"

 If people change as seasons change 

“Walk with your feet on earth, but in your heart be in heaven.” –St. John Bosco        

 take my heart

here it is,

beating hard

Yours

be my Love

i've given in

all i've got

for You

let my soul break

until i crave

unashamed grace

of You

drown my fear

in Your tears

my hurt

in You

give flight to the doubt

that holds me

captive

from You

take my hand

draw me near

closer

with You

lead me on

show me how

to take the steps

You want

I am amazed
that before I could love you,
you loved me,
that you purchased me,
a slave,
and rescued me from my master of sin,
and washed me whiter than snow,
put a ring on my finger,
a robe on my shoulders,
and called me
your Son,
heir to all the riches
of your kingdom.

I am so thankful
that my hatred of you,
was not enough
to hold back your love of me,
and though I murdered you,
that still you considered me
worth dying for, worth trading

Until he showed up at the ALIVE music festival this summer, I thought Kris Allen wrote only generic, sappy-but-clean girlfriend&breakup songs. I figured that any Christian with a strong witness probably wouldn’t have won American Idol.
I judge people on very little information, and yes, that’s a flaw, even if I justify it with James 4:4 and passages like it. In Kris Allen’s case, I have to make a lukewarm exception for “Live Like We’re Dying.”
Yeah, we gotta start
Looking at the hands of the time we've been given

In the depths of sky-blue eyes,

I’m entranced, I’m mesmerized.

My heart was captured in a beat

And that alone is quite a feat.

Your smile was so soft, sincere,

It banished every single fear.

And as I held your gaze in mine,

It seemed that God had stopped all time.

I could not move, nor could I breathe.

How could I bring myself to leave?

Hi everyone, here is a debate I had online via MSN Instant Messenger about 6 months ago with an evolutionist named Keith. The only modification to the debate has been to fix a few spelling errors.  I realise that a few spots will be hard to follow because of the way MSN is used, but most of it is easily followable. It kind of seems to start off in the middle of a discussion and the reason is because we had had a debate the previous day, and this debate was a continuation of it. Unfortunately I had not saved the first debate. So, here it is, enjoy and comment!

{This will be my last post on ApricotPie until after the summer. I may drop in from time to time during the summer and read and comment, but I want to be as 'unplugged' as possible. This story, "Deep Roots" is one of my favorite short stories, along with "In My Father's House" and "Nikolai." Short stories in general I tend to like better than my long ones. So without further ado, see you after the summer, and enjoy!}

A tall Zambian man showed me a handful of dirt, dead leaves, and broken roots. “The roots are so deep, we cannot pull them out.” He said.

 Written when I was 9 years old.....

~

Who am I?

That I have gone away the same and have come back new

Changing in a blink of an eye; Or have I just changed what I do

Who am I?

That my eyes see different than what I saw

 A person shining more beautiful than the moon’s light

Someone who always protected me who I never knew before

Who am I?